As any good Ohioan knows, late summer brings the best Ohio sweet corn.  But by the end of summer, we’ve all had just one too many nights of corn-on-the-cob, brushed with butter and sprinkled with salt & pepper.  Don’t get me wrong – it’s good stuff (although I prefer to take mine off the cob before eating) – but I like to look outside the cob too.  There are many uses for fresh corn – shave it into salads, use it as an omelet stuffer, make cornbread (which, as a baker hater, I would never do).  Tonight, I decided to use it as the base for a soup – a healthy corn chowder (full recipe at bottom of post)!

Per Saturday afternoon tradition, I met Karen for lunch yesterday (at Northstar – we split the big burrito and chopped salad – be jealous).  She had visited the farmer’s market that morning and generously offered to pick me up some produce.  With corn chowder in mind, I requested lots of corn, and she delivered.  This morning, I tackled the dreaded task of shucking 11 ears of corn (Karen took two of the baker’s dozen).   You might be saying, “What’s the big deal about shucking corn, Sarah?”, and I would tell you that the task is MUCH easier if you have a backyard or a garage, neither of which my apartment affords me.  So I’m forced to shuck in my kitchen, standing over the garbage can and making a giant mess.

Once  all the corn was shucked, I moved onto the even more annoying second step – removing the kernels off the cob. Luckily, Rachael Ray taught me a trick to make the task do-able:  flip a small bowl upside down inside a larger bowl, then place the cob on the flat surface and run your knife down the side of the cob.  The kernels will fall into the bowl and not all over your kitchen (well, most of them).  This is what 11 ears of corn looks like off the cob:

Fast-forward to 7 PM – soup making time!  I loosely followed a recipe my Mom gave me years ago that I believe was from Cooking Light.  First things first:  chop up a leek.  For those of you who are not familiar with leeks, they contain a lot of sand and thus must be thoroughly cleaned before using.  Slice up the leek into rounds and place in a bowl of cold water – the sand will sink and the leeks will float.  When you’re ready to use the leeks, use a hand strainer to remove them from the bowl so you don’t get any of the sand that’s sitting at the bottom.

Next up, chop a few cloves of garlic, an onion, and a red pepper or two (I used 1.5).  Another Rachael tip:  to slice an onion, cut off both ends, peel, and slice in half.  Place the flat side down and make a bunch of thin cuts along the short end of the onion.  Then cut the opposite way.  The result will be uniform small diced onion:

Heat a little olive oil or cooking spray in a large pot.  Add the garlic, onions, leeks, and half of the red pepper. Cook for ~5 min.

Then add the corn and most of a 32 oz container of chicken broth.  For a totally vegetarian chowder, feel free to use veggie broth – I prefer the look and flavor of the chicken broth.  Bring the corn mixture to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer.

After the mixture has simmered for ~20 minutes, remove it from the heat and let slightly cool (I folded one load of laundry during this stage).  Then comes the interesting part.  Scoop about half the mixture into a food processor (I used my mini one) and blend until creamy, then add back to the pot.  This makes the soup into more of a chowder.

And last, but definitely not least, add the rest of the red pepper and some spices!  The recipe calls for saffron, cayenne pepper, black pepper, and salt.  If you’re not familiar with saffron, it’s a Spanish spice that comes in threads and is very expensive.  I buy it at trader joes –  a little jar was maybe $4 and I’ve had it for years.  You only need a few threads to give the soup some warmth and color.

In addition to those spices, I also added some cumin.  Cumin is my favorite spice, and I pretty much think it makes all soups better.  This soup can be a little on the bland side, so the more spices, the better!  Then I reheated the soup and let the flavors meld for a bit on the stove.  The recipe also calls for adding the rest of the chicken broth, but I like my soup thick so I omitted that step.

To serve with the soup, I whipped up a batch of homemade croutons.  Seem overwhelming?  Trust me – it’s not!  All I did was buy a bag of cut-up french bread in the bakery section of my grocery, then spray those slices with oil olive and sprinkle with garlic powder, salt, and pepper before baking for ~15 minutes at 250 degrees.  When the bread is crispy but still chewy, it’s done. These croutons will stay fresh in your pantry for a couple of weeks when stored in an airtight container.  Yum!

I serve the soup with a dollop of sour cream, some chopped green onions (you could use chives), the croutons, and, what else – BACON!  I fried up a whole package of bacon this morning, ate some for breakfast, and then put the rest in the fridge to crumble on soup or salads all week.  I also added a couple drops of Sriracha ‘cuz I like it hot!

The soup was tasty!  I look forward to eating it tomorrow for lunch, and I’ll probably freeze the rest of it to enjoy at a later time.  You could also remove the corn from the cob and freeze in a ziplock bag for future use – a taste of Ohio summer in January!

Healthy Corn Chowder

Ingredients

1 onion, diced
1 leek, cleaned and sliced
1-2 red peppers, diced
~10-12 ears of corn, off the cob
~32 oz chicken broth
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp cumin
~6 threads of saffron
S & P to taste
sour cream, green onions, and crumbled bacon for serving (optional)

Directions:

1. Heat pot with oil olive or cooking spray and add onion, leek, and 1/2 of the red pepper.  Saute ~5 mins.
2. Add corn and most of chicken broth.  Bring to a boil, then simmer for ~20 min.
3. Remove soup from heat, cool slightly.  Puree half of mixture and add back to pot.
4. Add remaining broth (optional), red pepper, and spices and reheat.
5. Serve with sour cream, green onions, and crumbled bacon
6. Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

I spent this past weekend on the East Coast, visiting my Aunt/Uncle/Cousins on my Dad’s side:

We had a fabulous weekend talking, laughing, SHOPPING (it was tax-free weekend in Massachusetts!), and generally just enjoying eachother’s company.  Atlee is about to move to Israel to work for five months (or longer…) and Talya is starting her sophomore year at that school up north, so it was extra nice to spend time with the four of them all in one place.

On Sunday, we drove into NYC for a family reunion on Neva’s side of the family (Yossi is my Dad’s brother).  I had heard through the family grapevine that Maurice (my cousin’s cousin) had met his wife on eHarmony, and it didn’t take long before we were discussing the woes of dating.  Maurice showed me a contact in his phone – “Aaa unnamed”.  Turns out “Aaa unnamed” is his WIFE.  Years ago, when he first met her, Maurice was too jaded to believe that she could actually be “the one” – so much so, that he wouldn’t enter her name into his phone, preferring to keep it as “Aaa” (so that she would be at the very top of his contact list).  I assume that Maurice’s fear that it might end poorly like so many “Aaa”‘s before her dissipated at some point, but by then it was an ingrained habit – so Lisa became “Aaa” for life.

Maurice put it simply:  “It’s a numbers game.”  The idea being, you might have to meet a lot of people before you finally meet the right person.  Of course, it’s not a numbers game for everyone – for some (very few), it only takes one; for more, it takes some.  But for those of us that find ourselves dating at age 30, it is most certainly a numbers game.  The more dates you go on and the more people you meet, the more likely you are to meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.  This might not sound very romantic, but it’s logical – and I, for one, have always liked math.

The problem with the “numbers game”, however, is that over time, playing it gets tiring.  One bad date or short-lived relationship after another becomes the status quo.  You get excited about someone new, and then before you know it, it’s on to the next one. You find yourself choosing to sit out the game entirely for weeks or months at a time, just so you don’t have to be disappointed again.  Factor in years and years of playing the numbers game, and you can understand why a person might become a bit….jaded.

I, for one, have been playing the numbers game my entire adult life, and have every reason in the world to be jaded.  Last year alone, I was stood up on four distinct occasions (that I can remember – there were probably more.  And to be fair, I’m talking the 2014 version of being stood-up; you make tentative plans (mini-golf on Sunday), and then the person falls of the face of the earth, never finalizing said plans and thus leaving you hanging).  I’ll send ten Match.com emails, only to hear back from one – or maybe zero.  I’ll go on two, three, four dates with guys that I feel lukewarm about, hoping that my feelings will grow in time – they almost always don’t.  Even my attempts at “casual” relationships backfire – apparently I don’t give off the “casual girl” vibe.

The point is:  I have every reason in the world to be jaded.

But you know what?  I’m not the least bit jaded.  Despite all evidence that my next date is probably not going to be more than just the next number in my game, I can’t help but be an optimist.  This one could be different!  And so despite my better judgment, I let myself get excited for each and every date, each and every guy.  Yes, that might mean I’m setting my expectations too high.  Yes, that might mean I’m setting myself up for disappointment.  And yes, that might mean I’ll get hurt.  But that also means that I’m setting myself up for the possibility that none of that will happen.  And it’s that possibility that keeps my head held high, a smile on my face, and my eyes wide open.  After all, it only takes one.

And who knows – maybe my next “Aaa unnamed” will remain in my phone for life!

 

Some of my favorite “healthy lifestyle” bloggers occasionally write “Day in the Life” posts.  I always enjoy them – it’s interesting to read the minutia that make up a person’s day.  With that in mind, I thought it might be fun to do my own, “Day in the life of Sarah” post – and what better day than a boring Monday?!  If you make it to the end, kudos to you.

6:18:  Alarm goes off.  Snooze is set for 7 minutes, but I decide that I’m really tired and will wear my hair curly today, which means I won’t have to blowdry and straighten it = extra 15 minutes (probably less, but I push it).  I reset the alarm for 6:38.

6:38:  Alarm #2 goes off.  I set the snooze but get up before it goes off at 6:43.

6:43:  Turn on morning news, pour cup of coffee that automatically brewed at 6 AM, put in contacts, brush teeth, shower, comb hair & put in curly stuff, make bed, do foam roller stretches for my back, put clothes for the day in dryer with my wet towel to remove wrinkles, put on makeup, get dressed.

7:40: Put breakfast / snack snuff from fridge into lunch bag (I didn’t pack my lunch) and head out the door.

8:01:  Pull into parking lot at work, which means I’m “late” per usual.

8:05:  Arrive at desk.  Chit-chat with co-workers, wipe down my desk with cleaning spray (a Monday ritual), boot up computer, check emails and voicemail.

8:20:  Ask co-worker Alexa to put my icy hot patch on my mid/low back.  This is a daily occurrence, so she knows the drill. Since I’m not wearing a dress, we do this at her desk – it’s a private-ish area and I have no pride.  When you back hurts, it hurts, and icy hot patches are a godsend.  As are Alexa and everyone else who has seen too much of me in the name of coping.

8:21:  Head to break room to make breakfast.  Get really excited when I realize that I’m at the bottom of my peanut butter jar – peanut butter jar oats!  I head up the oatmeal per usual and then spoon it directly into the almost-empty jar before adding some fruit.  The warm oats melt the PB – it’s heaven.  Try it.

8:24:  Really get down to business.

11:34:  Eat a small handful of cereal to tide me over until lunch, which won’t be until later as I have errands to run.

12:11:  Leave building.  Drive to mall.

12:20:  Head first to the Gap to return two sweatshirt-type tops that I ordered online to wear on the plane to/from Spain, but didn’t like in person.  Then stop at Ann Taylor Loft to play personal shopper:  black leggings for my Mom (fail – didn’t have her size, just like at her store at home) and white camisole for Pam (win – visiting her in Spain in two weeks and am bringing her some requested items!).

12:38:  Lululemon draws me in – “just to see what’s new”.  Luckily, none of the new designs interest me so I leave after a quick walk-through.  My wallet thanks me.

12:43:  Leave mall and drive to Chipotle.  Was planning on picking up Subway at the mall (much easier and healthier), but I was craving Chipotle in a major way so went with it.  That’s what I call intuitive eating!

12:51:  Enter long Chipotle line.  Order my standard:  Salad, no dressing or rice, both kinds of beans (the musical fruit!), chicken, tomato salsa, corn salsa, a little hot salsa, cheese, a lil sour cream, and GAUC (worth the $1.95!).  Is it just me or are they getting stingy with toppings?  I had to ask for a little bit more cheese!  Also order a kids-sized chips – I just like to add a little crunch to lunch!  Refrain from ordering my standard iced tea and save a couple of bucks.  Side note:  in college, my girlfriends and I ate at Chipotle every single Sunday night for all of freshman, sophomore, and most of junior year before it eventually fizzled (don’t worry, our friendships didn’t!)

1:00:  Head for car, then realize I forgot fajita veggies like I always do.  Walk back into Chipotle, head straight for the counter and ask for a side of them.  You only get what you ask for!

1:13:  Arrive back at work, listen to voicemail, fill up water bottle.

1:20:  EAT this masterpiece.  Save half the chips for a later time.  I keep ziplock baggies at my desk for this very purpose – perhaps they will last until my next Chipotle visit!

3:14:  Refill water bottle.  Send more emails, talk on the phone with some of my Distributors, send even more emails.

5:25:  Leave work.  On a normal Monday I might stay an extra 15 minutes, but today I drive across the street to a Firestone to get my driver’s side front headlight replaced (my co-worker noticed it was burnt out – Thanks, Bill!).  Firestone tells me it’s going to be $45 to get it replaced – $45!!!  Right as I’m about to begrundingly pay – I can’t drive without a headlight – the mechanic realizes he doesn’t have the bulb in stock.  I leave, somewhat annoyed at the high cost and the fact that I’ll have to come back tomorrow.  But just as I”m leaving, the mechanic magically finds the correct bulb and replaces it – FOR FREE.  I ask him twice if he’s sure – I don’t want to get him in trouble with his boss – and he says yes.  I can’t help but think that this is what drives corporate business people crazy – that was a part and some labor! – but it was very kind of him and I drive away happy.

5:45:  Catch up with Ash on the phone while driving to the gym to teach spin class.

6:05:  Arrive at gym.  Change clothes.

6:20:  Do a quick 10-minute strength routine of push-ups, knee-to-elbow planks, side dips, and bicycle crunches.

6:30:  Enter spin room 15 minutes before class to get organized and help newbies get set-up.  Turns out, that wasn’t necessary today – only six people show up!  Tied for my smallest class ever.  The instructor before me had 22, so I’m very jealous.  The two pictured here are two of my regulars – hi Abbey and Ron!

6:46:  Class starts, one minute late.  I usually am very good about starting class right on time.

7:40:  Class is over, including cool-down.  It was hard, but the playlist I made was fun (“Tearin’ Up My Heart”) and I always love teaching.  Wipe-down bike, gather up gear and head downstairs to sign-out for class.

7:58:  Arrive at grocery store.  I prefer to go on Sundays, but since I was traveling this weekend I didn’t have a chance to go.  Hate going after spin as I’m usually starving, but amazingly the Chipotle kept me full all afternoon and all through my spin class – an extremely rare occurrence!  Zip-through grocery, picking up just a few essentials – produce, dairy, a few other goodies (those peanuts were $1 – great snack to keep me occupied at my desk!).

8:27:  Home!  Hold Susan (my cat, in case you somehow don’t know this fact) like a baby in my arms and watch as she stares up at me.  For real.  Don’t judge.

8:27:30:  Put Susan down and unpack groceries.

8:32:  Unpack gym bag, hang up clothes.  Pack pool bag for tomorrow night – might go swimming outside after work  (it finally feels like August!), or might go to yoga in which case I’ll come home first.

8:40:  Rinse off in shower, put on PJs.

8:52:  Make very random dinner.  Still am not starving, and tuna salad sounds good – something I haven’t made in probably a year.  Chop up some green onions, red pepper, and tomatoes, throw in pre-shredded carrots and corn as well as a small amount of capers for extra salty goodness.  Realize that both the jars of light mayo I have in the fridge are long expired (one was over a year old – gross, Sarah).  Don’t have any of the plain greek yogurt I normally buy (wasn’t thinking clearly at the store, apparently), so I improvise and use cottage cheese instead in addition to a few good squirts of spicy brown mayo.  Decide I also want a piece of toast with some cheese and a plain sweat potato, which I microwave. Like I said- very random.

9:15:  Sit down in comfy chair to eat and read blogs.  This dinner reminds me of the ones I ate in college.  Try to distract Susan from the tuna smell with some of her toys – it half works.

9:40:  Stop reading blogs and move on to writing my own!  This is a fun post to write and requires less “thought” than some of my other more content-heavy posts.  Susan sits next to me on the arm of the chair while I write.

10:10:  While the photos for this post (slowly) load, I get up to stretch my legs and clean-up from dinner.  I pour myself a glass of dark chocolate almond milk – yum.

10:20:  Sit back down to finish post.  Add photos, preview, make edits.

10:45:  Publish!  Not documented:  Taking out my contacts, brushing my teeth, and hitting the pillow.  Blogging keeps me up too late!

If you made it this far, it’s time for you to go to bed as well.

How was your Monday?!

One of my fondest memories of my childhood is my mom getting home from a long day of work followed by an aerobics class at the local YMCA, making the family dinner while still wearing her sweaty exercise clothes.  Her example showed me that it was possible to be a great mother while still taking care of yourself – something that so many of her peers felt unable to do.  From a young age, I learned that exercise is not just about vanity, or even health – it’s about doing something that makes you feel good.

Never having been one for sports, it wasn’t until college that I discovered the joy of exercise for myself.  It began freshman year at the Jesse Owens South recreation center on campus, with a modest 25 minutes (the time limit) on the elliptical machine, followed by some half-hearted attempt at abs and arm exercises.   Twelve years later, my workouts look different, but my love affair with exercise is still going strong.

Just like most girls, I’ve always been more into cardio than weights (I’ll save society’s influence on women for another post). In college, I regularly lifted, but I did so begrudgingly.  I understood the importance of it; a couple of stress fractures and a diagnosis of osteopenia (one step away from osteoporosis), along with my mother’s influence, taught me that.   But I viewed lifting as something that I had to do, something that wasn’t enjoyable and simply made my workouts even longer than they already were.  Needless to say, when I started grad school, something had to give – and I wasn’t about to give up my beloved spinning classes and running.  To be fair, I took up yoga around the same time, so I didn’t entirely give up strength training – but it definitely was not a priority.

Fast forward to February 2014.  A newly minted MBA, I found myself with a lot more free time – and a strong desire to get serious about strength training.  But after taking a 2.5 year long break, I knew I needed something new and challenging to really get me back in the groove.  Enter Sweat Box.  More specifically, enter Dustin Kelch at Sweat Box.  I started seeing Dustin upon recommendation from my friend Andy.  Andy had long been singing the praises of his personal trainer, and after just one complimentary assessment I could see why.  I immediately signed up for 8 sessions, and six months later I’m finding myself singing those same praises – this time, in blog form!

To be fair, Dustin is the first personal trainer I’ve ever seen.  But I think he’s pretty darn awesome!  One of the first things I noticed about Dustin is his attention to my weaknesses – mainly, my back problems.  He’s always been very cognizant of the muscular back pain that plagues me, and is quick to modify workouts that aggravate it.  He also suggested the back stretch that has by far and away been the most helpful of any I’ve ever tried, even after many years of physical therapy, massages, and the like.  Instead of rolling back and forth on my foam roller, I hold it in one position for 30-60 seconds, with my arms stretched above my head.  This allows the muscles to relax and begin to let go.  It’ s been a real life saver – thanks, Dustin!

Another thing I liked about Dustin right away was his calm, quiet demeanor, atypical for a trainer.  Dustin doesn’t yell, he doesn’t overuse phrases like, “three more Sarah, you can do it!”  He doesn’t tell me to “speed it up” when speeding it up it might compromise form.  Instead, he encourages with a gentle “three more” and “take a break when you need to”.   But you’d be mistaken if you thought Dustin was a pushover or not challenging enough.  Dustin pushes me 1000 times harder than I would push myself.  He challenges me to try the exercise a few times before I decide I “can’t do it” – and guess what?  I almost always can.  He keeps things interesting, making my brain work almost as hard as my arms and legs.  I still do bicep curls like in my college days, but now those bicep curls are accompanied with a step-over or walking lunges – working multiple muscles at the same time.  He knows my real limits, and makes sure I get there each and every workout.  In short – I get my money’s worth.

In case you don’t believe me, I thought it would be fun to share my workout from this past Saturday!

Step-up @ 15 x 8 (that means 15 lb in each hand, 8 on each side)

Inverted Push-Up x 15

Squat Jump @ 15 x 20

Whip Smash x 20

REPEAT ABOVE FOUR EXERCISES

Bosu Chest Press @ 25 x 20

BOSU Power Over with Rotation @ 10 x 10

REPEAT ABOVE TWO EXERCISES

Leg Press @ 185 (+ weight of sled ~ 50lb) x 20

Pull Down @ 70 x 20

REPEAT ABOVE TWO EXERCISES

And last, but definitely not least:

Cart Drag!  (it was a drag)

Dustin doesn’t skimp on time – the above workout takes a full 45 minutes (and I’m not big on breaks – again, gotta get my money’s worth!).  All the circuit repeats add up!  Gone are the days when I thought lifting wasn’t a cardio workout – I’m always amazed at how quickly my heart starts racing.

I see Dustin 1-2 times per week, on Wednesday evenings and/or Saturday mornings (before I teach spin!).  It’s definitely not cheap, but at this stage in my life (no kids, cheap rent) it’s an investment I’m willing to make.  I try to do a workout (or half of one) on my own a day or two a week, but it’s not nearly as enjoyable!  I love not having to think – I just show up and do what he says.

If you’re thinking about seeing a personal trainer, I highly recommend it (and for you cbus readers – Dustin and the Sweat Box!).  It builds bone density, revs your metabolism, and prevents injury.  But most importantly, it makes you feel like a badass!  I think it’s especially beneficial for women, who tend to be cardio junkies in pursuit of burning just a few more calories.  But ladies, I have news for you – I’ve never felt better about my body as I do right now, at age 30!  Strength training makes me feel lean and strong and sexy in a way that running and spinning never have.  And just like my mother did for me, I hope to pass on the love of exercise – and strength training – to my own daughter one day.

The question remains – have you sweat today?

Vodka, pizza, and bears, oh my!

Time for another Adventures post!

OddFellows
On Friday night, my friends Jenny, Chris, and I went to a new bar in the Short North called “Oddfellows“.  For you Cbus-ers, Oddfellows is owned by the creator of Mikey’s Late Night Slice, so we knew at the very least it was going to be unique.  And it did not disappoint!  One look at their Facebook page tells you that Oddfellows is not your typical Short North bar.  It prides itself on being a “Shitty Bar in the Short North”, and it mostly lives up to that tagline.  For one, it smells a little like sewage, but not in a bad way – just in a “we are a dive bar” kind of way.  The decor reminds me of Betty’s (may she rest in peace), with its absurdly goofy and random charm.  And the fancy cocktails are just $7 each – mine consisted of fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice, vodka, elderflower, and a salted rim.  Major yum.  I’m not sure that a place that lists “add cold-pressed juice to any cocktail for $3” on their drink menu can really be considered “shitty”, but I’ll give them props for trying.

And the best part?  Bacon Peanut Brittle!  Replace the standard peanuts in peanut brittle with bacon, add some nutella-mousse dipping sauce, and you’ve got a very unique bar treat.

Harvest Pizza
Don’t you hate when you purposely save part of your meal at a restaurant so you can enjoy it a second time as leftovers, only to discover you forgot your doggie bag at the restaurant?  That happened to me on Thursday night, and I’ve been craving more pizza ever since.  So yesterday afternoon I dragged Karen to the new Harvest Pizza in Clintonville (she’s a great dining partner).  I’ve dined at their German Village location and was excited to check out their new digs.  Although their Clintonville menu is expanded to include sandwiches and burgers, I had pizza on the brain.  And with a pizza-and-salad lunch special, I couldn’t go wrong!

I started with the Kale Caesar salad, which is what it sounds like.  Now, I like kale, but I’m not one of the kale-obsessed.  But let me tell you, this salad is GOOD.  Karen opted for the Butterhead, which had one major selling point – Cheese Curds!  Both were excellent.

As for the pizza, I ordered my stand-by, the Spicy Yuma, which had chorizo, peppers, jalapenos, and corn, as well as a spicy tomato sauce.  It was tasty as always.  I ate all but two slices, and this time I did not forget the leftovers (which were consumed that same day as a lateish-night snack).  Karen got the mushroom.  We traded slices, and while I’m not a fan of cooked mushrooms, the truffle oil more than made up for it.  #foodtrend

The only thing better than having fancy pizza and salads for lunch?  Having fancy pizza and salads for lunch for just $9!  Check out our super cheap bill -I think we might have to start venturing from our beloved Northstar Cafe more often…

Polar Bears!
Last night, my company hosted its annual summer family outing at the Columbus Zoo!

My friends Jackie, Ashley, and Johnny accompanied me, and we met up with Matt (who also works at MT) and his partner Tim.  We had a fantastic time wandering about, getting thisclose to kangaroos and watching baby bonobos act like humans.  My company even had a private viewing of the new Heart of Africa exhibit, but unfortunately, we missed the giraffes as it was apparently past their bedtime.

Full disclosure – part of the reason we missed the giraffes is because I reallllly wanted to see the polar bears!  #looklikebigcats.  So. Freaking. Cute!

Thanks, MT, for a great night!  As a side note, Jackie is officially “Jackie Hanna”, as she spent THREE DAYS IN A ROW at the zoo!  First with her family, then with us last night, and today with some friends who were in town!  She should have just spent the night with the chimps.

Supper
And finally, my Sunday night “supper”!   As I discussed in this post, mac & cheese and meatballs are two of my go-to meals.  I was out of meatballs, so I whipped up a batch of them to freeze and use later on.  I usually put chicken sausage in my fancy mac & cheese, but since I was making meatballs I threw some of them in the pot instead!  But the real reason I’m sharing this dinner is because of a trick I read on one of my favorite blogs, Healthy Tipping Point.  Instead of mixing the cheese packet with boring-old milk (even worse if all you have is skim, like I do), mix the cheese packet with ~1/2 cup of plain greek yogurt (I added a splash of milk too).  It makes the mac extra-creamy and the greek yogurt adds a slight tang that makes it much more satisfying than standard mac & cheese.  And just like I discussed in this post, I packed up the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.  2 for 1!

What adventures did you have this weekend?!

Yes, folks, it’s that time again – the third part in my many-part series devoted to online dating!  But before we get going, I want to share one photo from this past weekend (side note:  blog + no makeup = scary).  My best friend from high school, Allison, and her husband Enrique and two-and-a-half year-old daughter Mirah visited from DC.  We did what Allison and I do best – very little!  Mirah takes after her Mom and is the most low-key, good-natured toddler on the planet, and was a joy to be around.  Just like I talked about in this post, friendship takes effort – and my friendship with Allison is no exception.  xoxo!

OK – now back to that online dating thing.  In case you missed it, in Part I I discussed the online dating market, summarized in the chart below:

 

In Part II, I began a thorough analysis of each dating site, starting with the one I’ve used most recently, Tinder.  Part III is dedicated to the top left portion of the Dating Site Map – OKCupid!

I first heard about OKCupid (OKC) in the fall of 2012 from my friend Pratt’s younger sister, Teresa.  Teresa had recently moved from Brooklyn to San Francisco, and as a young single woman she was an excellent source for dating advice (still is!).  She encouraged me to check out this new dating site called OKC that was all the rage on the East and West Coasts (match.com was sooo last year).  Not one to shy away from new opportunities to meet my husband, I signed up right away.

The first thing I noticed about OKC was that it was FREE.  Having previously been a paying member of both JDate and Match.com, this was refreshing.  The next thing I noticed was less obvious.  Like the dating sites before it, OKC has personal profiles, complete with photos and a series of questions.  What makes it stand out from the crowd is its “tone”.  I distinctly remember thinking, “now THIS dating site gets it!”.  For example, rather than ask the standard, “what do you like to do” questions, OKC digs a little deeper, with questions like, “the six things I could never do without”, and “I’m really good at…”.  Clever questions like these make the dreaded process of completing an online dating profile actually fun – or at the very least, less painful.

But what really makes OKC different from the rest of the market (as I’ve experienced it) is their matching process. Apparently Match.com thinks that “you both enjoy basketball” and “he likes to go out to restaurants too” are the building blocks of a successful relationship.  On the contrary, OKC knows that it takes more than a mutual interest in bowling to make a match.  Instead, they peel off a few more layers by asking a lengthy series of questions with straightforward answers.  They also ask what answers you’ll “accept” in a match, and how important the question is to you.

For example, there are serious questions like this one:

And silly but fun questions like this one:

There are hundreds of questions, and no, you don’t have to answer all of them.  But the more you do, the more OKC will get to know you, and the better they’ll be able to “match” you with your perfect mate.  Now, of course, everyone knows there is more to compatibility than whether or not you believe that “Passion is more important in a relationship than dedication” or “I like horror movies”.  But these questions give you an insight into the other person that is nearly impossible to get on more traditional dating sites.  And just like with the clever profile questions, these matching questions make the online dating process a little more fun.

OKC has all the ingredients of a successful online dating site—it’s free, it’s quirky, and the match questions are entertaining and insightful.  Should be a winner, right?  Wrong.  Despite all of its unique qualities, OKC seems to attract less-than-desirable singles – and lots of them.  Of course, that’s not true across the board – after all, I’m at least moderately desirable and I’m on the site.  But from my experience, the men (and I’m sure many of the women) are just a bunch of losers / douchebags / weirdos ….not my type.  Need some proof?  Check out these characters:

And as luck would have it, men just like the ones above come flocking in droves on OKC.  When I first joined, I was shocked at the number of emails I received daily.  On Match, I would spend hours writing up clever emails, only to receive little to no response.  But on OKC, I received multiple emails every day with little to no effort on my part.  But I soon came to see that quantity does not equal quality (see above graph).  Sure, I was receiving emails, but they contained little to no content – things like, “Hey beautiful” and “How are you” don’t exactly make me want to respond, especially after reading a boring and/or sparse profile.  Someone who takes the time to comment on something in my profile is far more likely to catch my attention, and that rarely happens on OKC.  Need proof?  Here is a just a small snapshot of my messages:

You may be reading this thinking, “she sounds awfully picky”, but take my word for it when I say that I’m just being smart.  It’s easy to spot these guys in person, but it’s trickier to spot them online – which is why you have to be extra diligent.  If a guy seems like a jerk in his profile or his one-word email, he probably is.  Now, it wouldn’t be fair of me not to mention that I have been on a few dates with people I met on OKC.  A couple of guys were normal, one was not but I ended up dating him for a bit before realizing that.  Not all guys (and gals) on OKC are lame – just most of them.

The question remains, if OKC is so bad, why am I still on it?  The answer is simple – why not?  It’s free, highly entertaining (see above examples), harmless, and you never know – perhaps a great guy will stumble across my profile and send me an email with more content than “hey hot stuff”.  Highly unlikely, but hey – I’m an optimist!

Have you tried OKC?  OK, or not so OK?

 

 

“It happens when you least expect it”

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that phrase, I’d be dressed in lululemon from head-to-toe.  More specifically, every time I’ve heard that phrase come from a happily coupled person.  Once, my friend Cullen and I even found the phrase on the inside lid of a snack-sized raisin box.  It seems even grapes have advice for single people.

I know those couply people and grapes mean well.  They simply want to give us single people hope that one day, when we’re busy going about the business of living our lives and not looking for Mr. or Mrs. Right, we’ll stumble across he or she and the rest will be history. The problem with this notion is that if you are single long enough and of a certain age, it becomes almost impossible to stop looking – to stop expecting.

Throughout each stage of life there are expectations that we have for ourselves and that others have of us.  We expect, and are expected, to graduate from high school, go to college, choose a major, graduate from college, and start a successful career.  We expect, and are expected, to date a little, fall in love, get married, and have children.  We expect, and are expected, to raise well-rounded, intelligent, smart, “perfect” children, stay in love with the same person forever, and live a happy life.  On top of it, we expect, and are expected, to do all those things in order, and on a certain timeline.  College graduate by 23, married homeowner by 30, parent by 32, grandparent by 62.

In short, we expect, and are expected, a lot.

Where do these expectations come from?  Some, like marriage and starting a family, are long ingrained in society.  Others, like the role the woman in the household, are changing with generations.  And still others come entirely from within.  These expectations are reinforced by our environment – every movie, every book, every song, every TV show shapes our expectations.  At some point, these external examples become the mantra for our own lives – what our lives “should” look like.

It’s no wonder that all of these expectations might leave us feeling less than adequate at times.  What if, god forbid, you don’t meet them?  When everyone and everything around you appear to be meeting expectations, it’s hard not to feel vulnerable.  This brings to mind a particular Sex and the City episode in which Miranda and Carrie attend a party where they find themselves “the only single people in the room”.  When asked about her dating life, Miranda laughs it off rather than admit that what she really fears is that “maybe there isn’t someone out there for everyone”.

Now I know that Sex and the City is not real life, but it comes darn close to it.   I, for one, have had many experiences in which I feel like the only single person in the room, the weight of the expectation to find “the one” weighing heavily on my shoulders.  Some might say that expectation is mostly from within – that I put more pressure on myself than others do.  And that might be true.  But how can I not have that expectation for myself, when everyone and everything around me tells me to expect it?  Every song I listen to, every book I read, every TV show I watch tells me to expect love.  Heck, even my manicurist asked me if I had a boyfriend, and when I told her no, she said, “well you’ve had other boyfriends, right?” – just to make sure I wasn’t too weird.

It’s worth noting that I know these expectations aren’t limited to us single folk.  There are expectations to get engaged, expectations to set a wedding date, expectations to have children.  There are expectations to buy a nice house in a nice neighborhood, to send your kids to the best school, enroll them in the right activities.  Expectations aren’t limited to one stage of life – they are a recurring evil.

Part of the reason I started O-HI-30 was to take some of the focus off these major life expectations.  I’m learning to worry less about the future and what is “missing” from life in favor of focusing on the present and all that I do have.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t have expectations.  Do I expect to meet Mr. Right tomorrow?  No – but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to, or trying to.

And you know what?  It might happen just when I’m expecting it.  And if it does, you better believe I’ll be setting the record straight!

 

Yesterday, I completed my first Olympic Triathlon.

And it was hard.
Very hard.

But then again, why am I so surprised?  After all, I did swim 1500 meters (~1 mile), bike 40 kilometers (~25 miles), and run 10+ kilometers (6.75 miles) in 3:25:18!

But let’s back up a bit.  It all started last week, when I began freaking out about the weather.  Every meteorologist and website was predicting thunderstorms starting Saturday night and into Sunday.  Not Good.  I envisioned various scenarios, from delays to cancelling the swim to cancelling the entire event.  I briefly allowed myself to envision a scenario in which, by some miracle, it didn’t rain.  But suffice to say that between the highly uncertain forecast and the sheer enormity of the physical trial ahead of me, I was a bundle of nerves.

Luckily I had many supportive family members and friends to distract me Friday and Saturday.  My cousin Atlee drove down from that school up north on Friday night, and my brother and his girlfriend Aisling started the first leg of their month-long cross country journey by driving from NYC to C-bus on Saturday.  And of course my ever-supportive parents drove down from Cleveland to join Karen for the festivities.  After dropping off my transition gear at both T2 and T1 (where it started POURING rain just as I was racking my bike), we all headed out to dinner so I (we) could carb-load and enjoy some quality time together (while I sneaked peeks at the radar on my phone).  Aisling and I spilt pasta and pizza – the ultimate carb-loading adventure:

I slept fairly well that night, despite the fact that I continued to sneak peeks at the radar every time I woke.  When my alarm went off at 4:50 and I saw no rain, I finally started getting excited.  I was going to do an Olympic triathlon!  I met my parents and Karen at the swim start at 6:15 AM – big thanks to them for keeping me company for the 75 minutes until I made my first stroke.  And by some miracle, not only was it not raining, but the sky looked like this as I waited for 7:30 to come around:

And come around it did!  The swim came and went – I remember thinking “holy shit, this is long”, but before I knew it I was rounding the bend to the last leg (it was an out-and-back course).  It was pleasantly not crowded.   At one point I found myself in the middle of the course with no one around me – I panicked and thought I was going to get disqualified – but I quickly swam back to the pack and continued on.  And 34 minutes later, I ran onto the beach to the transition area!  I was noticeably more out of breath than my previous (shorter) triathlons, but otherwise I felt good.  I toweled off, put on my socks and shoes and the rest of my gear, and was off in 3:26.

I was by far the most nervous about the bike.  As you know, I fell off my bike exactly four weeks prior to yesterday, and that caused me to be an even more timid biker than I already am.  My confidence was boosted by the fact that it wasn’t raining and the nice tailwind that had me riding ~17+ mph for the first 5-10 miles of the course.  There were some hills, but they were fairly minor and for the most part, the course was a series of straightaways = very happy Sarah.  I was still very nervous at every turn and slowed down far too much (I’m sure the bikers behind me were annoyed).  The last five miles of the course were the hardest.  In part because it was the last five miles of the course, but also because there was a strong headwind pushing against us.  The sky took a turn and I kept saying “please don’t thunderstorm” to myself over and over – which appeared to have worked because the rain held off.  The bike finish came up quickly and I happily dismounted my bike.  I knew I had done well (for me) – I was hoping to complete the bike in under 1 hour 45 minutes, and my time of 1:33:24 fit the bill.  16 MPH?  I’ll take it!  I was passed about 1000 times and only passed two other riders, but I was out there for myself – and I did myself proud.

At the bike-to-run transition I saw my family (with my bro and his gf and my cousin).  I was happy to be off the bike and on to what I thought was my second-best event, and seeing them gave me a boost.  It was then that something very unpleasant occurred (warning – overshare ahead).  I REALLY had to pee, so I handed a race volunteer my iphone and ran into a porta potty.  Since I was wearing a one-piece tri suit and a race belt around my waist, I decided that I didnt’ want to bother with trying to strip it off – I could just pee with it on, like a bathing suit.  What I didn’t realize until much later was that my suit is not a normal suit – it has a nice layer of padding for protection on the saddle.  So…do the math…the pee had no where to go except sideways.  It went ALL OVER my legs, into my socks and shoes, on the floor of the nasty porta potty, even onto the sidewalk!  Basically everywhere except where it was supposed to go.  I debated stopping midway and taking off my suit, but I was wearing my race belt and it is not easy to take off the suit…and since i had already started I figured I might as well just pee my pants.  So pee my pants I did.

As luck would have it, my dear friends Jackie and Matt were waiting for me outside the porta potties and captured my disgust as I exited.  Despite being drenched in my own urine, I was thrilled to see them – there is something special about the support of friends.

That’s when things started going downhill.  The run was HARD.  In past triathlons I rocked the run, even setting a personal 5K record in my second triathlon.  I went into this one thinking that the same thing would happen – my legs would feel weird and I would just RUN.  What I failed to consider was the fact that the swim and the bike were twice as long, so by the time I started running I was 2+ hours in.  I also wasn’t properly trained – I didn’t take the run seriously enough and had only run 6 miles once before the race.  And in the most ironic of ways, the sun decided to come out – adding to the brutal humidity. Or maybe it wasn’t any of that, and perhaps I can blame it on the shame of having peed my pants.  Whatever the reason, the run was very challenging.  Every. Single. Step. Hurt.  Thank goodness for my music (“Call Me Maybe”!).  I also took some walk breaks – something I almost never do in training or races – but this race demanded it.

Finally, after what felt like forever – I saw the finish line.  I forced a smile on my face, saw my family, and sprinted to the finish.  After 3 hours, 25 minutes, and 18 seconds, I was an Olympic Triathlete!

And then this happened:

I have never been happier to be done with a race in my life.  My back was killing me and I needed a place to sit against something immediately.  After a few minutes I gathered my composure and began the somewhat arduous process of collecting my T1 & T2 stuff.  Eventually we headed back to Karen’s and I took an amazing shower – but not without taking a group shot first (my Dad took the photo):

I didn’t have a complete appetite, but I managed to eat a full plate of this amazing spread that my Mom and Karen put together.  It tasted fabulous, and I know the spectators appreciated it too – cheering is hard work!  My Aunt and Uncle joined us for the celebration as well – it was quite the full house!

After lunch, everyone packed up and went on their way (D and Aisling began their month of adventure, lucky them!). And just like that, it was over.  The Olympic Triathlon that I’d been thinking about for months and obsessing about for weeks was over.  And rain-free!  I didn’t experience the rush of endorphins as I did in previous sprint triathlons – instead, I actually felt very little.  It was just – over.  To be honest, it wasn’t exactly “fun”.  Sprint triathlons are half the distance and twice as fun!  But today I feel differently – delayed reaction, perhaps?  The significance of what I accomplished yesterday has started to sink in – and I’m really proud of myself!  I’m also humbled by my body.  I know firsthand how fleeting physical health can be, and every single day I am able to swim, bike, and run is a day for which I am grateful.

I am also thankful for everyone’s support – I know that so many of you were thinking of me Sunday morning, checking the radar and cheering me on from your cozy beds!  Your encouragement and investment is greatly appreciated.   I may have run a lot slower than expected, but I felt strong on the swim and exceeded my expectations on the bike.  And even though I placed in the bottom 25% overall, I’m inspired and in awe by all the athletes that I racked my bike next to and those that began their second run lap while I was running my first (the half Ironman athletes ran a half-marathon – after swimming 1.2 miles and biking 56!).  And in the end, I’m really proud of myself.  Because I raced this race for one person and one person only – me.

Only one question remains – which Olympic Triathlon am I doing next summer?!

I’ve been obsessing thinking about my upcoming triathlon a lot this week.  There is rain in the forecast – specifically, “scattered thunderstorms,” the chance of rain is 40% all weekend, and my weatherman keeps saying unhelpful things like, “rain Sunday”.  WHEN on Sunday?  If it’s after 11 AM, I don’t care (well, I sort of do – we are having a cookout in the afternoon – plus, I feel bad for all those competing in the Half Ironman!).  What if it’s thunderstorming and they have to cancel the race?  Or what if it’s pouring rain but the race still goes on, and I have to bike in it (recall that I slipped on some mud and fell four weeks ago).  Plus, I have a large cheering section and they deserve to be dry during the 3+ hours it will take me to swim 0.9 miles, bike 25, and run 6.55.

Alas, as much as I’d like to control the weather (that would be one of my three wishes for a genie), I can’t.  So instead, I’ll try to shift my focus to things that I can control.  Starting with all the stuff that is required to race a triathlon.  Since I’m officially a triathlete, I will refer to that stuff as “gear”.  Before my first triathlon two summers ago, the aspect of the race that eluded me most was all the gear needed just to complete the event.  I’d previously completed three half-marathons, and those are simple (besides the running 13.1 miles, of course):  clothes, running shoes, maybe a watch and you’re hitting the pavement.  Triathlons, on the other hand, are MUCH more complicated.  After all, you’re swimming, then biking, THEN running.  And if you’re doing a point-to-point course like I am on Sunday, the start / swim-to-bike transition (T1) and bike-to-run transition (T2) / finish are in two different places, further complicating things.

Despite having three triathlons under my belt, I still find myself creating a new list of gear as I prep for each race.  This time, I got smart and created the following excel table outlining everything I need to succeed:

Pretty crazy, huh?  That’s a lot of sh*t for one race.  For those of you who are visual learners, a lot of sh*t looks like this:

And my bike:

Not exactly a fancy road bike that weighs next-to-nothing, but she’s been good to me.  She’s light-ish and comfortable, which is important for my 80-year-old back.  (pretty sweet kickstand, huh?).  #notaprofessional

As for my race fuel, I’ll be packing three of these dates stuffed with peanut butter and sprinkled with a little sea salt, a tip I got from this post from one of my favorite bloggers.  I plan to eat them on the bike.  Ignore the “best buy” date.  Oops.

So there you have it!  A crash-course in triathlon gear.  I’ve got some special family members coming to town on Friday and Saturday, so I’m really looking forward to an exciting and busy weekend.  Hopefully I can channel this nervous energy into race energy come Sunday morning!

Back with a full report early next week (can’t promise I’m going to be able to do anything more than watch The Good Wife on Sunday evening).  Thanks for your support!

 

I spent this past weekend at Ashley’s cottage in Michigan with six of our dearest friends from college.

Since graduating in 2006 (’07 for some of us!), us girls have taken a “girl’s trip” at least once a year.  Ash, Pratt, Shep, Nash (left to right) and I lived in the dorm together freshman year at Ohio State (B-3 baby!), and have been the best of friends ever since.  We happily picked up Caitlin and Jackie along the way (left and right of me, respectively), as well as Pam and Stacy (we missed you!).

Talking to others, it’s become apparent just how fortunate and rare it is to maintain such close friendships throughout the years.  Many people aren’t so lucky to meet such wonderful friends on their dorm room floor, and even if you manage to leave college with a tight knit group of friends, it is tough to endure the test of time.  People move, keeping in touch becomes harder, schedules fill up, some have babies while others remain single.  Things just…change.

But I’ve never been one to let life just happen to me.  On the contrary, the O-HI-30 life is about grabbing life by the balls and making the most of what you have.  And just like most worthwhile things, friendship takes work.  These great friendships didn’t remain in tact simply by chance – they are a product of real, meaningful effort on all of our parts.  Despite all the moving, post-graduate degrees, relationships, marriages, and four-legged friends, we’ve managed to stay as close as we were sitting on the dorm room floor of Bradley 319, eating Shep’s Mom’s queso dip and gossping about boys.

The annual girls trip takes a different form each year.  We’ve done Vegas twice (once for fun, once for Pratt’s Bachelorette Party – that was interesting), rented a cabin at Hocking Hills, bet on horses at Keeneland (Ash’s Bach party), took pole-dancing lessons in Pittsburgh (Cait’s Bach party), and, most recently, partied it up in South Beach.  This year, we decided to keep things low-key (and affordable) and drive to Ash’s parent’s lake house – or “cottage” as they call it – in Southern Michigan.  I’ve been fortunate to be a guest at the cottage many many times over the years, and it never disappoints.

We didn’t know it at the time, but selecting the cottage as the location of Girl’s Trip 2014 ended up being the perfect choice.  Why?  Because Pratt is now seven months pregnant!  Miami and Pregnancy do not go together, but Cottage and Pregnancy most definitely do.  Pratt is the first of the original dorm crew to start a family (Stac has a beautiful baby girl), and we were so excited to spend some time with her before her family of three (her husband Tony and Crosby, the dog) becomes a family of four this September!

Ash’s Mom had the brilliant idea of throwing Pratt a suprise baby shower.  And suprise her, we did!  When Pratt saw the sign for a “baby shower” on the door, she said, “Oh, a baby shower” before realizing a moment later that that shower was for her!

Shep came up with two fun games for us to play:  Match the Celebrity to their Baby’s Name, and The Price is Right.  I was AWFUL at the celebrity game (as in, I got 2/20 right, one was a pure guess and the other I cheated off Nash), but I proved myself as a savvy shopper by tying for the win with Jackie in The Price as Right.

When we weren’t showering Pratt with homemade baby food kits and adorable onesies, we were drinking wine (even the mama-to-be enjoyed a few sips – just a few!), laughing about boys from years past and teasing each other mercilessly, and eating.  Lots of eating.  There is never a shortage of excellent food at the cottage, and Ash’s Mom’s baked beans remain the star of the show for me, year after year.  This was Saturday night’s spread, consumed at 10 PM since lunch was consumed at 3:30 PM.  Ah, lake life.

I was very sad to see the weekend come to an end.  Less than 48 hours is simply not long enough to spend with your best girlfriends from college.  No matter how long the trip, it never seems long enough, and this one felt particularly short.  But the one thing I can say with 100% certainty is that there will be a 2015 girl’s trip.  It may look different, and it may involve a baby (!), but it will happen in some shape or form.  And the same can be said for 2016 and 2017…and 2034.

Until then, ladies!